


The Moments to Remember

by nightofnyx8



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Fuhrer Roy Mustang, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Ishval Civil War, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29711091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightofnyx8/pseuds/nightofnyx8
Summary: When Riza accepted Roy's proposal, she hadn't quite anticipated the meaning behind the title of her new rank as First Lady of Amestris. (A one-shot that turned into a character study).
Relationships: Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Comments: 10
Kudos: 36





	The Moments to Remember

"Is that her, over there?"

"Yeah, the one with the spiky ponytail."

"What kind of hairstyle is that?"

"Beats me. Did she even look in the mirror this morning?"

"And the Fuhrer's going to marry _her?"_

Riza Hawkeye fought back her irritation as she surprised a sigh. Could she ever come to work without having whispers accompany her all the way throughout the hallway?

Ever since the Fuhrer had proposed to her, people just couldn't seem to leave her alone. They had a reasonable courtship for around eight months after Mustang's promotion, but that mostly been kept private for the Fuhrer's sake. The last thing the people of Amestris needed to see was their brand new Fuhrer on the front page of the gossip columns, dating his closest subordinate on the day of his promotion.

She was content, however. She had waited so long just to be with him. All those hours in the office, stealing glances at each other, allowing his hand to linger on her shoulder as he passed her the daily reports, feeling his warmth when the rare occasion allowed them to embrace. But never farther than that, no. Even after the threat of death had passed, could they allow themselves to do more than long for and to hope.

She knew she loved him, and she knew he loved her. And as much as she reveled in every private moment they had to be intimate, for his hand to cup her cheek as his lips met hers, she couldn't help but long for more. To return home with him after the day's work, and to make dinner together and speak sweet nothings as the night grew cold.

For Roy Mustang to be completely, totally hers.

And so when he had proposed, she had said yes.

She knew the consequences of that answer—being the First Lady of Amestris did not have the same responsibility as a military officer. She could never be Mrs. Bradley of course, and she didn't mind all of the charity work involved. Riza just hoped that becoming Roy's wife would mean more than just pretty dresses and press conferences.

Perhaps this was why so many rumors followed her around everywhere she went. The men weren't particularly bad—she was used to working with them. They found her as an interesting choice for the Fuhrer's wife, certainly. But they usually just looked her up and down and chuckled to themselves.

"Well, at least someone will be able to keep Mustang in line," Havoc would say before Rebecca would scold him.

The women, on the other hand…

Did they really have to scrutinize every single little thing about her appearance? What did it even matter to them?

"I've never seen that Hawkeye wear any makeup."

"Does she think those earrings make her look more feminine?"

"She's too tall and bulky. She'd be as tall as he is in heels!"

"If she even wears heels…"

Riza was well aware that many of these women had many fantasies about the Fuhrer, imagining how his tantalizing lips would feel against theirs. Riza didn't really care—Roy had made it plenty clear that she was the woman he wanted, especially knowing that Roy's reputation as Central's womanizer was yet another ploy into his career.

Yes, their comments were annoying, but not damaging. Riza could brave those. It wasn't until she found herself in the company of the elite did she feel small.

The Fuhrer had a council, of course, and most of them were married. Their wives had invited Riza to a number of their small parties while their husbands sat in the council meeting. Riza found these meetings to be particularly boring, as most of them talked about which skirts to buy their daughters or how the meat this week wasn't as tender.

But when she watched these women accompany their husbands with their heads tall in every interview and appearance, she couldn't help herself. She was jealous. They answered every reporter's question with grace and elegance, never once smearing their perfectly applied lipstick. They knew exactly what to do in every social situation—how to eat, how to sit, how to talk, even how to smile. There were too many details that Riza could never keep track of.

But there was another reason why Riza felt uncomfortable. These women…these frivolous, picture-perfect women had no bloodstains on their hands. They had never even dirtied them. Riza…she had taken lives. She was a soldier—a sniper, no less. The broken result of her father's destructive alchemy, with calloused hands from digging graves for Ishvalan children. Her fingers held death in them, not healing. And now she was the one supposed to represent all of Amestris.

All she had ever wanted to do was to protect Roy. She even said she'd follow him into hell. Whatever she was following him into now…well, it wasn't exactly heaven either.

Riza entered the office and sat down at her desk. Jean Havoc had been promoted to Colonel as Mustang moved to the Furor's office, and Riza had stayed under him as a Major. Riza liked it this way—she could work quietly at her desk, staying in the field as much as possible without drawing too much attention to herself.

She had barely gotten started on the first file of papers when a messenger arrived at the door.

"It's for Major Hawkeye!" The small man shrieked. "Lady Sagely wanted to invite you to lunch today!"

Riza groaned internally. Lady Sagely was the wife of General Arnold Sagely, one of the most intolerable men she had ever met. His wife was a small, petite woman who made up her height in the tallest heels she could find. It wasn't that Mrs. Sagely was an enemy, per say. She just really didn't know when to stop talking.

"Very well then," Riza stated. "Please inform Lady Sagely that I will meet her by the entrance at thirteen hundred hours."

The messenger bowed his way out of the room, and Havoc threw her a smirk.

"Off with Lady Sagely again? I wonder what "advice" she'll give you this time."

"Wouldn't you love to know, Sir." Riza replied sarcastically. "You better get promoted to General soon so Rebecca can at least join me in this silly little country club they have."

Havoc smiled around his lit cigarette. I believe Becca and I would have to be married to do that, Major. And you know how she feels about that."

"I also know that she's had her wedding dress picked out since she was six years old. Perhaps you are the one that is not informed on the situation, Sir."

Havoc shrugged. "Perhaps. Either way, she would never have the same amount of pressure placed on her as you do. Not in the slightest."

Riza fell silent, knowing of no response to counter with. She resigned herself to the report in front of her, wishing lunch would never come.

But ten minutes before the clock struck the designated time, she dropped off the finished files at Havoc's desk and made her way down to the main entrance. Lady Sagely was already at the front desk, laughing casually with the secretary. She raised her hand in a fluttering wave as Riza approached her.

"Why Miss Riza! How lovely it is to see you!" Lady Sagely's eyes looked over her in swoop. "Don't you look…formal."

Riza blushed. She was wearing her normal military uniform, freshly washed and ironed. She supposed it did look a little odd next to Lady Sagely's plum dress, which hugged her tightly and made every officer stare a little too long.

Riza plastered on the best smile she could. "Lady Sagely, I look forward to our outing."

"But of course!" Lady Sagely laughed. "I must introduce you to this wonderful little café I found the other day." She turned to the secretary. "I bid you adieu, dear Charlotte. You simply must come to dinner at our house, we just had our kitchen renovated.

And without another word, Lady Sagely spun on her glittering heel and sauntered out of the entrance, leaving Riza to trail after her in the most dignified way she could.

-

Lady Sagely's "little café" turned out to be a rooftop restaurant near the region's shopping district. It overlooked the sprawling white malls below, while dozens of moving colored dots circled its streets. There was a pleasant sort of song that a pianist played in the corner, and the chandeliers tinkled softly in the breeze from the open windows. Lady Sagely kept complimenting the rating of the restaurant's delicacies with its stunning urban architecture. Riza rather thought the place to be a dangerous fire hazard, with so many candles burning and the ladies' bonnets spinning atop their heads.

Lady Sagely seemed to be a favorite, as the hostess met with them personally and lead them to a private area overlooking the city. The sun streamed warmly through the window to where a box of pink carnations lay.

"How lovely," Lady Sagely commented as the waitress placed a chilled salad before her.

Riza sighed inwardly. _Which one was the salad fork again? I know Rebecca told me…_

She snuck a glance at Lady Sagely's fork and found the matching one at her outer left. Her confusion did not seem to go unnoticed as Riza noticed a small smirk playing on Lady Sagely's lips.

"So, Miss Riza." Lady Sagely began. "Have you finalized the plans for your wedding gown? After all, the ceremony is only two months away."

Riza froze, her fork inches away from the salad. "My…what?"

"Your dress, of course." said Lady Sagely impatiently. "Surely you're not expected to get married in _that_ thing, are you?"

Riza stiffened, inhaling slowly before she answered. "No, ma'am. I was thinking of picking one in a few weeks from now."

"A few weeks?" Lady Sagely gasped. "My dear, your dress will never be ready by then! You simply must go in after lunch today to get you fitted so they can get started right away!"

"But—" Riza stopped, catching herself. "Lady Sagely, I don't see the point of getting a dress made. A simple white dress would do the trick." Thinking of all those ruffles made Riza feel like an overdressed duck.

"Oh no, dear. You must simply have a gown made if it is to have any impression made on the general public. Mrs. Bradley had the most beautiful dress—why, her train must have trailed twelve feet behind her! And with the most dazzling heels!"

"That sounds like quite a trip to hospital, ma'am." Riza said before thinking. Realizing her mistake too late, she waited for a reprimand with baited breath.

But Lady Sagely seemed to take no notice. She was busy listing off things Riza should have already had prepared by this time.

"And yes my dear, you must have the food catered by Chef Yukihira, the best in the entire country. He will be sorely disappointed if you do not. And the placement holders have to be brought from Drachma again of course, handcrafted by the First Furor's wife. Your bouquet should be made from lilies—"

"I don't like lilies."

"—and wrapped in white silk. Perhaps we should be you to a weekend spa this weekend. Your poor skin surely needs it, along with those bitten down nails of yours. And perhaps—"

"Excuse me, Lady Sagely." Riza interrupted, holding up her hand. "I, I apologize. However with all due respect, I really see no need for all of this."

Yes, Riza was a woman of simple tastes. And it wasn't as if she didn't enjoy dressing up every now and then—a bit of silver eyeshadow, small jeweled earrings she liked to wear daily, the ruby red lipstick that always made Roy sink to his knees.

But that's what she preferred—every once in a while. And besides, the most important part of her wedding was, well—the groom.

Lady Sagely's eyes widened. "But my dear, it is _tradition_." She said the word as though it could cure the world of all illness. "Everyone knows that, and everyone in the country of Amestris will be expecting a wedding of tradition."

Riza chose her words cautiously. Evidently, they couldn't even make it through a salad without starting an argument.

"Perhaps, Lady Sagely, breaking tradition in some ways is a good thing. Fuhrer Mustang has already given the Ishvalens back their Holy Land, and their people are beginning to thrive once again."

But Lady Sagely waved her hand impatiently. "Oh yes, the Fuhrer has certainly proven himself to be a charitable man. But that is not your purpose, my dear. The Fuhrer simply must have the best, would you deny him of that?"

"I personally do not think the Fuhrer would care—"

"And what about the country of Amestris?" Lady Sagely seemed to be on a tirade. How long had she been holding all this in behind her perfect white teeth? "The Fuhrer may be the leader of this great country, but First Lady must provide grace, culture, and nurture to the nation. Think of Mrs. Bradley, take example from her."

"I'd rather not," replied Riza. The wife of the late Fuhrer was motherly and kind, and Roy had allowed Mrs. Bradley and her Pride-less son to reside in their same resistance. A very lovely woman, yes, but Riza was tired of being compared to her. Especially given that two powerful homunculi had lived with her for years without Mrs. Bradley knowing in the least.

Lady Sagely looked at her expectantly. Riza squirmed. She could face through any threat, any danger, any gun pointed at her head. But this….she felt like she was underneath a microscope. Finally, Lady Sagely leaned back in her chair, her perfect posture bent ever so slightly.

"Well, I suppose I should have expected this." she scoffed. Her tone had dropped its usual flamboyant air, and had evened out into a lower tone. "After all, I'm only talking to a _soldier_."

"I beg your pardon, ma'am?"

Lady Sagely sighed. "You're not one of us, Miss Hawkeye. You're a solider, not a politician. Goodness me, you're not even a lady. You're just follow around the Fuhrer like some little puppy. Pitiful, really."

Riza's hands clenched into fists. Her nails dug into her flesh as she tried to find the words to say instead of bullets to shoot. "And what difference does that make in me becoming the First Lady?

"Why it has everything to do with it, my dear." Lady Sagely leaned forward across the table, her eyes dancing with malice.

"Tell me, Miss. Hawkeye. How many innocent women and children did you shoot in the rebellion?"

Riza froze, not daring to meet Lady Sagely's eyes. Did she really just hear what she think she did?

"I…I don't think this to be the most appropriate topic at this time, ma'am."

Lady Sagely seemed to have dropped any sort of façade, now regarding her guest with an eye of contempt.

"This country has been through so much, Miss Hawkeye. The Ishvalan Rebellion, Fuhrer Bradley assassinated, and now our State Alchemists teeter dangerously with their power, not knowing line between keeping the peace and starting a riot."

Riza said nothing, her eyes focused intently on her clenched fists beneath the white tablecloth. Lady Sagely went on.

"Fuhrer Roy Mustang is no less stained than you are, of course. However, the nature of his rank makes him the leader of the military, as well as the leader of his country. He is required to get his hands dirty, to protect what is his and ours at whatever cost. He is a symbol of pride, protection, and prosperity to the people of Amestris. His wife, as I mentioned earlier, must also be a symbol. A symbol, my dear, that I am afraid you simply can never be. She must be a guide to healing and grace, not a mass murderer. A First Lady who has participated in such a rebellion indeed…and to think of the consequences…"

Riza stood up quite suddenly, toppling the water glasses on their sides. "You know _nothing of war_ , of Ishval!"

"And yet you don't deny it." said Lady Sagely, unaffected. "And what will you do on your first day as the Fuhrer's wife? Will you hand twitch towards that wretched weapon you always keep guarded, answering every reporter's question dully until you finally shoot one of them? Will you look into each child's eye at the refugee orphanage without telling them you're the reason they have no parents? Or will you simply keep quiet, while the people of Amestris slowly stir until they rise up against you and your husband?"

Riza's entire body shook with anger. Lady Sagely had _no right_ …and yet, neither did Riza.

It felt like newly done stiches had just been undone. Bile rose in her throat, and a weight slammed down on her chest like a bowling ball. That tiny little voice whispered once again at the back of her head. _You are a murderer, you are not loved, you can never be loved, this world would be better without you—_

"I…I need to leave. Thank you for the invitation." And with that, Riza strode out the restaurant with her temper barely hanging on, leaving her guest sitting next to the flowered window.

"Yes, my dear." Lady Sagely simpered. "You do."

-

The cool metal slipped into Riza's fingers easily, their familiar weight calming her. The pieces were like a puzzle, a routine she had done a thousand times. The bullets shot through the practice mats, one at time.

She took off the safety, lining up the next shot up with her desired target. She remained very still, and held her breath.

One, two, three.

And with both eyes open, she released the shot with her breath, and sent the bullet flying.

It hit the spot inches above the humanoid's head, Riza imagining the shot blowing off Lady Sagely's ridiculous top hat right into the mud.

She lined up another shot, imaging the next target to be a plastic model displaying an enormous wedding dress.

And suddenly the target became an Ishavalan woman, the one with a knife about to stab one of their foot soldiers…

"NO!"

She threw off her earphones, her gun clattering to the floor. Riza dropped to her knees, and sobbed.

_How many have you killed, Riza? How many more people have suffered because of you?_

She did have blood on her hands. Her fingers brought deadly aim, and she never missed. Her hands were meant to kill.

And she thought she had the right to a life of happiness with Roy…

"I thought I'd find you here."

Riza jumped so violently that her gun fell out of her hand and clattered onto the hard floor below. She whirled around to see the Fuhrer himself right behind her, a sad smile gracing his lips. He leaned up against the banister, his black hair falling into his eyes.

"Sir? W-what are you doing here?"

The Fuhrer sighed, still smiling. "There's no one else here but me, Riza. Relax."

"How did you find me?"

The Fuhrer knelt down next on the ground and faced her. "Havoc called. He was concerned when you didn't return after lunch and called me up. I figured you'd be here, since you do so like to destroy all of our good targets."

Riza managed a weak smile, but more tears threatened to spill. She bit the inside of her cheek and hardened her eyes. _I can't be weak_ , she thought.

Roy's fingers were suddenly cupping her cheeks, his hands absent of the gloves that usually accompanied them. He gently tipped her chin until Riza found herself looking into his dark, obsidian eyes.

"Riza." Roy said softly. "What's wrong? Tell me, please."

Riza bit her lip. She knew she could tell him anything, she knew. It just all seemed like too much right now.

Riza sighed and closed her eyes. She allowed herself to sink into her lover's embrace, and he drew small circles on her back.

"Roy?" She said after a few minutes.

"Mmh?"

"Are you sure that I'm…the right one to be your wife?"

Roy drew back, his expression full of surprise.

"What are you talking about? Of course you are! Riza, I've known since the beginning that I wanted you to be my wife." He paused, and Riza saw fear tremble is eyes. "You're not…I mean, are you having second thoughts about us?"

Riza's heart stung. How could she have been so blunt?

"No, Roy. Not at all." She let her hands drift to the lapels of his coat, and allowed the course texture to rub against her fingers. "I'm as sure as ever that I want to be with you. I just…don't know if the people of Amestris will accept me as their First Lady."

"And who's saying things like that?"

Riza's face flushed and she looked down again. "Lady Sagely…might have mentioned some things at lunch today."

Roy's voice took on a hard edge. "I don't give a damn about what General Sagely and his wife think. It's hard enough trying to get the Ishvalan peace treaty signed without the General contradicting my every action. She actually said that you weren't good enough to be my wife?"

"Specifically the First Lady. She thinks my past as a soldier would…interfere with my duties."

Roy grew silent, understanding the unspoken words. He continued to rub her back, and she breathed in his familiar scent of smoke and hickory.

After what seemed like hours, Roy finally spoke. "She's got quite the double standard if that's what she's going after you for. If I recall correctly, her husband would frequently bomb Ishvalan schools, with his men waiting in the shadows for the parents to come running."

"I don't think that qualifies me any more for the job."

"Honestly, Riza, I don't any of us are. What we did, what all of us did, was wrong. And no matter if we did it uninformed or not, unwillingly or not, we all took part in it." He sighed, and Riza could feel his chest tremble slightly. "But what we do now is up to us. We can either hide back in the shadows and wallow in our guilt, or move forward, making sure it never happens again."

Riza stayed silent, feeling the Fuhrer's chest rise and fall against her fingertips. And suddenly warm fingertips tipped her chin, gently brushing away her bangs from her forehead. His eyes were set in determination, yet kind at the same time.

"I need someone who will never let me go too far." he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need the woman who put a gun to my head to protect him from destroying himself with revenge. I need to the woman who wouldn't let me do human transmutation to sacrifice his entire country for the one he loved. I need you, Riza. I need you right by my side, every step of the way."

The tears finally do spill, and the Fuhrer gently brushes them away with his thumbs.

"Oh Riza," he sighs with a smirk. "Always so emotional."

He kisses the spots under eyes until her cheeks dry, and they stay that way until the light fades from the windows.

-

Riza yawned lightly as she climbed into the soft sheets of her bed, enjoying the cool night air on her bare arms. She had lately been wearing tank tops to bed, as Roy stated he liked to see "everything that hideous uniform hid." Black Hayate was already curled up the the very edge of the quilts, breathing in perfect rhythm.

Roy looked up from his book besides her and gave the dog an exasperated look. "You know, we really should figure out where we're going to live, seeing as Mrs. Bradley still lives in the Fuhrer's estate. Hopefully somewhere that doesn't include mutts in the master bedroom."

"I'm sure Mrs. Bradley wouldn't object to us moving in. It's is certainly large enough."

"Yeah, that's true." Roy agreed. "But I want a place that's just ours, Riza."

Riza smiled and snuggled into Roy's chest. His arm tightened around her and he kissed the of her forehead.

"Lady Sagely told me that I had to wear a dress with a twelve foot train."

Roy snorted. "If you trip and fall in that, I will never stop laughing until the day you die."

"Good, maybe it'll give you something to smile at."

Roy rolls his eyes and gathers her into his arms. " _You_ make me smile, Riza."

He nibbled lightly on her ear, and she felt the blush creep up to her cheeks as he began to plant kisses just beneath her jaw.

"You're affectionate tonight." she mumbled as his kisses traveled farther down her neck.

"I haven't been home with you in weeks." he murmured against her collar. "I'm starting to think those generals are trying to keep me away from you on purpose."

Riza sighed in content, her fiancée now working on the dip where her neck met her shoulder. Her head swam with wavering thoughts: his electrifying touch on her skin, the joy she felt growing in heart.

Did she really deserve to be this happy right now?

Almost as if he read her mind, Roy stopped and looked up at her.

"You alright?" He asked.

She nodded slowly. "I just feel…guilty sometimes, to have this."

Roy sat up and gave her a sad smile. "If you think you don't deserve this, then I definitely don't." He closed his eyes and leaned against the headboard. "I just…I can't forget what that bean sprout said to me. That he wasn't going to let me off the hook." He opened his eyes and looked at her. "You certainly haven't either. Neither have Breda, or Fuery, Havoc, Falman or…"

He stares off into the distance, and she recognizes the look in his eyes. It's the same expression he wears whenever he remembers Maes Hughes. He brings himself back and smiles.

"I can't afford to lose sight of what is good, and what is right. I'm no use to anyone if I'm consumed with revenge or self pity."

"I'll never forget." Riza choked back the sob stuck her throat. "I'll never forget the price that was paid."

"I know, I know…" His arms were around her again, and he holds her tightly against him. It has been a while since these feelings had surfaced this much. The faces seen through the scope on her rifle, the cries of parentless children, and the smell of burnt corpses rise within her once again.

And she grieves, once again, for the people of Ishval.

But Roy was right. She couldn't stay that way—Roy becoming the Fuhrer was only the first step in a long, long road of recovery for Ishval and Amestris alike. She and Roy had to look to the future, to assure that history would not repeat itself.

She buries her face into Roy's shoulder, exhaling her pain, inhaling his love. The love he had for Amestris, for Ishval, and for her.

"I love you" she whispers softly, and she feels his tears on her shoulder.

They sit that way for a while again, reveling in the presence of one another. The radio slowly ends its slur of Amestrian dance songs, and the radio host starts to speak again.

"Here it is, folks! The juicy gossip of the day. Major Riza Hawkeye was spotted leaving "La Bella Notte" this afternoon in a hurry, and her commanding officer reports that she never came back to work. Even more, she was sighted to be leaving the shooting range around sunset. And you can all guess who was with her—Fuhrer President Roy Mustang! That's right, folks! The country's most popular couple is certainly getting rather close as they near the biggest wedding of the year! We have here right now an exclusive interview with the man himself—Colonel Jean Havoc!"

"Thanks Devon." Havoc's smooth voice comes onto the speaker. Riza can almost hear the smirk. "Well you know, the Fuhrer and his Hawkeye were destined to be together, you know. Such a tragic love triangle, I myself being wrapped up in the drama as well—"

Roy growled and grabbed the phone from the bedside table. "That bastard's never going to get promoted, I'll make sure of it!" He frantically entered numbers into the rotator dial.

Havoc continued his story. "Of course both of them were in love with me, and come on, how do you choose between that? Both gorgeous, both mysterious, both able to kill you on sight—oh speak of the devil, the Fuhrer's calling me right now…"

Riza suppressed her laugh and Roy and Havoc shouted to each other over the phone, while the poor radio host on the other end tried to get Havoc to focus on the interview again. The words of dear friend came back to her in that moment, words she had forgotten…

 _"I'm not going to pretend my mistakes don't exist."_ Maes Hughes had told her as they waited in the rain for their next train (Roy sulking in the background). _"But the only way to live for me is to cherish what I have right now, as it might be taken away from me in any moment. That's the only way to live, if you ask me."_

Riza smiled, and let her heart swell with the memory.

"And you better be in by six hundred hours tomorrow, understood?" Roy slammed the receiver on the phone.

"Careful not to take it out on the phone." Riza smirked.

Roy scowled at her, but softened when he saw her smile. "I can never catch a break, can I?"

"You thought I would go easy on you once you became Fuhrer? As your subordinate and assistant, I'd have to disagree."

"Stop calling yourself that, you're about to become my _wife_."

Riza laughed, for the first time that day. The sound rang through the house, making the colors brighter around her. The man besides her smiled.

Roy tipped her chin and kissed her, his lips full and warm against hers. "You're hopeless."

Riza smiled in content, and she reveled in the warmth Roy's fingers held as he kissed her once again. His arms curled around her protectively, and she rested her head against his chest as they settled into the covers.

She fell asleep to the rise and fall of his breathing, steady as a drum. The morning would come, with new memories to make, new goals to set, more people to serve and protect.

And as for tonight, this memory, she chose to cherish.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I really do love Roy's and Riza's characters, as they're just so complex and multi-layered. The love they share for one another is profound and deep, yet isn't perfect. The best way I could describe it would be intimately raw, and yet they also find healing within in each other (they're walking paradoxes, what dorks). Anyway, it was fun to write this, and to revisit the world of Fullmetal Alchemist as I just rewatched Brotherhood this month. I hope you enjoyed this one-shot, and be prepared for more Royai to come, because I just can't get enough of them!


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